


The Affair

by TombRomance



Series: The Affair [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-09-23 09:37:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9649967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TombRomance/pseuds/TombRomance
Summary: Legolas, Tauril, and Shavara were great childhood friends, as thick as thieves as others may say.  Until the day Shavara’s father took her away. When tragedy hits too close to home, Legolas find unexpected comfort in the Elven woman two-hundred fifty years later. Many things have change, and yet she has remained mostly the same. With unspeakable acts, how will their worlds hold up to their decisions?





	1. Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings everyone, this is my first story on Archive, I hope you enjoy. I intend for this to be a three/four part series, each containing five or more chapters in each! It'll go through the entire LOTR's series and starts right after the Hobbit. It touches both the books and the movies, but isn't fully one or the other. So here is Chapter 1 of Series 1! Feedback is always welcomed, as long as it's friendly (and/or constructive criticism.)

Chapter 1: Reunion

The ballroom buzzed with excitement, as guests flooded the large space to celebrate the taking of the Lonely Mountain, and the restoration of the Arkenstone to its rightful owner. Legolas knew many of the elves who surrounded him, though he was in no mood for celebration, he had lost the one he thought he loved. Tauriel not only gave her love to a dwarf, she also died looking for and protecting him. The thought brought bile to his throat, he felt hatred toward the dwarf and his ilk, but somewhere deep inside he also felt jealousy and sadness. Two emotions he was unfamiliar with. Legolas Prince of Mirkwood, was miserable at his own celebration. 

His father, on the other hand, was joyous, a sight very unfamiliar to those around. Thranduil spoke in his usual way and features, but the sound to it was uplifted. For once at an event the king of Mirkwood seemed genuinely happy to be there. Very few guests took note of the difference in Legolas, opting to take in the great halls of Mirkwood. This event was the first since the Queen had passed, bring a familiar yet unfamiliar breath back into the kingdom. The normal root chandeliers had been replaced by sparkling sliver butterflies, which danced in the magical light.

A light breeze danced through the area when the main doors opened, revealing a red-headed elven woman with a tall blond man. The twos arms were interlocked, as they paused the top of the stairs taking in the light wooded room. Legolas glanced at the woman’s deep green dress as it rippled with ever step she took. It looked as though the two had dressed to match each other, the male’s golden clothes had deep green embroidery, hinting at the woman’s dress. They stopped, greeting Thranduil with an acceptable bow, before the two men started talking jovially, as if old friends. 

Legolas was going to leave, until he saw the red-head, a gentle calling came from her, as her dark eyes locked with his. She murmured something to her companion, her fingers lightly touched his chest, before she left his side heading in the direction of the prince. He found himself frozen to the spot he stood watching as she neared him at such a slow, and yet too quick, speed. Something drew his attention to her, as if a long-forgotten memory was starting to come to the forefront of his mind. As she drew he noticed the gold hints in her dress. The golden broach which held the dark green belt snuggly to her hips flickered in the light, as well as the one that held the chiffon neck piece together. 

“You look so much like your parents.” Her words a breathy sigh, as she curtsied elegantly. 

Her words thrummed with familiarity, even though her posture and phrasing was the shining example of etiquette. He should remember her, very few elves had hair that wasn’t blond or black, though he did not. Legolas’s brows knitted together as he looked closer at her hoping to remember something, but to no avail.

“I’m sorry, who are you?”

“It has been a long while since we last spoke,” She chuckled, a sound that mimicked soft sleigh bells. “Though I had hopped you would remember a childhood friend.” A flirtatious grin graced her features. “My name is Shavara.”

The name sparked many memories, he did spend many summers with the young red-head, though at the time her hair was so dark one couldn’t tell it was red until it touched the sun. She had stopped coming to the castle when he rejected her as a potential pairing, during their early teens, though he greatly doubted that was the reason she stopped coming. With little thought Legolas wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulders, something one should never do at such a public event. Shavara chuckled, doing the same around his waist, ignoring the odd glanced and hushed murmurs from surrounding elves. 

“You look so different.” He sighed, pulling her an arm’s length away, but keeping her there within his fingers.

He took in her appearance once again, this time cementing it to his memory. Her dark red hair was pulled into a rose at the crest of her hairline, as curly red tendrils danced from the back of the rose and over her shoulder. The style didn’t appear as though it looked very comfortable, in fact it looked as if, if she moved it would send stabbing pains through her scalp until she returned to the original position. Her bodice was a thick corset that mimicked leaves piled on top each other until it met with the silken belt and fell into weightless silk skirt. Very feminine. This was not how he remembered her growing up, instead of the shining jewel she is now, she was very much like Tauriel adventurous and boy like. 

“Well that does happen, when becoming an adult from a child.” She breathed fondly.

“Who is it that you came with?”

“My husband Feynlaros.” She chuckled, glancing back to Thranduil and the man she called husband. 

“You are married?” Legolas breathed, bemused at the new information. “For how long?”

The man known as Feynlaros smiled, and waved at the red-haired woman, before returning his attention back to Thranduil. Legolas couldn’t help to notice the man looked as old as his father. Shavara’s featured faltered momentarily as she glanced back to her old friend, she knew what he was thinking about, it’s the same thing everyone thought of. The age difference between the two. Her fingers touched lightly at Legolas’s hand, before she started walking to the balcony outside. It was mid-December, and cold took precedence in the outside world, though one wouldn’t know it if they were inside. Her exposed shoulders shuttered at the bitter touch, as she leaned against the balcony railing. The air inside was starting to become stuffy, and the thought of others overhearing their conversation wasn’t at all appealing.

“I remember playing slay the dragon with you and Tauriel…” she hummed, feeling his presence behind her. “The two of you always forced me to play the damsel in distress. I’d await here for your heroic rescue, while you both fought off the great dragons of legend below.”

“It made sense at the time, you were a princess.” He chuckled, waiting for her striking eyes to flicker to him. “I distinctly remember one time when we arrived here to save the princess, that she was missing.”

Shavara stood from her position, still not sparing a glance to her old friend. She remembered that day well, it was the last time she saw Legolas and Tauriel. When the Prince of Mirkwood dismissed her as a mate, her father took her away before the game could come to completion. The memory of watching Legolas and Tauriel rush up the stairs, only to be met with an empty space haunted her thoughts for years. It wasn’t that the game haunted her, it was the symbolism that soon followed. Her father expressed that she was never to see Legolas again, and that she’d marry a widowed man, leaving that space in their lives empty forever.

“Sometimes,” her voice cracked, as she finally faced her friend. “A damsel can only wait for so long, before she is taken by another.”

The double meaning hung heavily between the two, their eyes locked onto the each other, before Shavara’s glance fell to his chest. Instead of his normal green outfit, Legolas adorned a pale blue suite which sparkled in the light. He looked rather handsome, and for the first time tonight she was glad to have convinced her husband to come to the ball. She swallowed hard, trying to think of any subject for conversation to bring up, that didn’t consist of the past or even of hidden feelings. 

“How long have the two of you been married?”

“Many years now.” She breathed, looking back to her friend. “We got married five years after our last encounter.”

“You were still a child,” a look of disgust touched his features.

“I was old enough to marry,”

“Do you have children?” He questioned, ignoring her previous remark.

“Feynlaros has two children, a boy and a girl.” Shavara’s eyes peaked over Legolas’s shoulder, before looking back to him. “I am sure you have met them, Adaya is his daughter and his son is Therahel.”

It goes without saying, that both of his children were older than their stepmother, making any relationship an awkward one. Legolas read the uneasiness in her shoulders, as she rested her bottom against the railing. She didn’t meet his eyes, telling him all he needed to know. Her marriage wasn’t a happy one, but the Shavara he knew was a loyal one.

“But do you have children?” He repeated, putting emphasis on you.

“He doesn’t like children, and the only reason he had those two was out of obligation.” She sighed for the millionth time today, before glancing back into the courtyard. “None of this is any of your business, and I’d appreciate it if we moved on to another conversation.”

“A friend’s happiness is not my business?” He questioned, sitting in her line of sight. “I love you as I always have, your happiness is my business. As I’d hope mine was yours.”

The redheaded woman swallowed hard, as her eyes met with his blue ones. Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip, before the doors opened, revealing both Feynlaros and Thranduil.

“My, how the mighty have fallen.” Thranduil spoke taking Shavara into his arms. “You have grown into such a beautiful young lady.”

“Thank you my lord.” She breathed uneasily, she wiped a tear away. “I am so pleased everything worked out for you in this endeavor.” She replied as they pulled away. 

“It did not work out only for me, my dear.” Thranduil chuckled. “It worked out for all of us, with the Arkenstone back where it belongs an entire history is returned.” His face somber for a moment. “I was heartbroken to hear of your fathers passing.”

“As were we, he was a great man.” Feynlaros sighed, wrapping a protective arm around his wife. 

“There is so much we need to catch up on….” Thranduil sighed, glancing from his old friend, to Shavara, and ending on his son. “Why don’t the two of you spend the weekend here? This way we can catch up on the lost years.”

“I would love that,” Shavara smiled, before looking to her husband. “Can we Feynlaros? We’ve been wanting to get away from the kids for so long, this just sounds perfect.”

The two locked eyes on each other, as the older blond contemplated whether or not they should stay for an extra four days. His wife’s eyes shimmered in the moonlight, already begging him to agree. They had indeed been talking about going on a trip for months now, mainly due to his children’s inability to make Shavara’s life any easier. In the two hundred years, they had been married, Feynlaros’s children seemed to become more and more rotten to their adopted mother. She was exhausted, one could tell from her eyes, how they dampened around his children, if anything she was the one who need to break, and he did love her so.

“A break would be nice. I’ll send word now, please keep her entertained Prince Legolas.” Feynlaros nodded to the prince, before walking back into the dancing hall.

“I have others to attend to, but we will catch up soon.”

Before leaving the two alone, Thranduil winked at his son confusing not only Legolas but also Shavara. They glanced at each other, as if asking what that was about, before the realization hit. After so many years apart they were finally able to spend time for longer than a few hours. Again, Legolas pulled Shavara into his arms, breathing her even deeper into his lungs. There was so much they needed to talk about, though during a party wasn’t the best of places.

“Let’s take a walk through the garden.” Legolas whispered into her soft ears, as his eyes danced over the crowed.

No one would notice their absence; her husband had been caught by a small group of elves from Rivendell. Legolas pulled away from the red-head, before taking her hand into has, and pulling her lightly down the flight of stairs. Shavara shadowed him, with very little resistance. Excitement bubbling through her light giggle, as they reached the courtyard. So many places explored throughout her youth, so many ghosts from the past dancing through the clearing as they walked. 

Legolas turned to look at Shavara as she slowly passed through the meadowlike clearing in the center of the yard. They both knew where he was taking her, it was hard for Shavara not to have an inkling. After all, it was her calming cove that he was leading her to, the place she went when the weight of the world became too much for her. One of the many places she missed in the time she was away. The cove quickly became Legolas’s own safe place, but unlike Shavara, he kept it a secret from everyone including Tauriel. 

With some space, in between them Legolas couldn’t help but notice how the dress accentuated the swell of her breasts, and how the skirt hugged her hips in just the right places. When did she become a woman? He wondered as she leisurely neared him. He swallowed hard as he watched the silver moonlight bounced off her sun kissed skin, a trait her wild elven heritage gave her. Shavara’s eyes danced around the courtyard’s many plants, before they locked onto the blue of Legolas’s. He was staring at her, that much she understood, but his eyes were fogged over while they danced about her.

“Legolas?” she questioned, a chuckle caressing his name softly. “Are you well?”

“Y-yes,” His voice cracked, “We’re almost there.”

In the stone walls surrounding the courtyard there are a few dugout’s which are filled with beautiful plants from all around Mirkwood. Or at least plants that were once found throughout Mirkwood, before the diseased magic sunk in. Within one of those alcoves, hidden behind a tricky wall, is an opening which led to secret passages to the inside of the castle. Not even the guards knew about this area, and that is where both Shavara and Legolas spent much of their time during their childhood. It was there where the pair found themselves standing. Shavara kneeled in front of a small indentation, before pulling a loose stone from the area. Her fingers reaching through the hole and pulling out a wooden box. Legolas hadn’t noticed the loose stone before, leaving the elven male with a satisfied grin. Obviously the she elf knew more about his castle than he even did. 

“I’m about two hundred years later than I intended, but the memories will be all the sweeter.” She hummed, as her fingers already opened the box.

Inside was a folded piece of paper, six different flowers, two bracelets, and a gold piece. Nothing most people would have hidden inside of a wall, but Shavara was special like that. Legolas light one of the small torches the two left in there for dark nights. He peaked over her shoulder, as she unfolded the page with the tenderness of a mother.

“What’s that?” Legolas chuckled, seeing a drawing of an elf.

“It was my first drawing that I was proud of.” Shavara smiled, glancing back to him. “It’s a portrait of you, silly.”

“You drew me?”

“All of my drawings are of you.” She whispered.

Breathing became an effort for him, as his eyes went back to the moderately well done drawing. Her line work needed a bit composition, and maybe the brow line was a bit more pronounced, but it was him on the page. His eyes flickered back to Shavara as she stood, the box nestled in between her elbow and waist, dirt smudging against her dress. Something snapped within him, surging forward his fingers found themselves pressing against the apple of her cheek and on the curve of her waist. His lips pressing against hers hungrily, soon afterward. A confused noise left her lips as the box came crashing to the floor.

So many thoughts consumed her mind as his body pressed hers against the cool walls of the alcove, effectively pinning her in place. Her eyes slowly closed, her body responded to his as though she were in a desert and he was the only source of water she’s come across. Her fingers laced into his hair pulling the two closer, as low moans departed their lips in simultaneous bliss. Legolas’s fingers left her cheek, slowly sliding down her collarbone and past the swell of her breast, as his other hand started to ball up the skirt of her dress. His knee parted her now mostly bare legs, making more room for his body to nestle comfortably between her. 

Shavara moaned, feeling him against her now aching core much need friction calling forth their desires. His fingers gripped the back of her thigh, almost begging her to wrap her strong legs around his waist. Shavara sighed into his mouth as she granted his request, allowing his body to press hers against the wall and her limbs to pull him farther into her. 

Legolas was the one who pulled away from the fiery kiss, his blue eyes dancing across her features as the two breathed heavily. Neither spoke, afraid that such an action would pull them back into reality and would remind them of what a grave sin they were about to commit. He pulled her skirt all the way up her legs, as his lips attached to her neck in a frenzy of bites and open mouth kisses. The smell of her arousal gracing both of their noses and the sounds of her quiet moans music to his ears. His hips ground into hers, making his name role from her lips in a breathy mantra. 

Shavara’s back arched her back, pressing more into Legolas’s chest as his fingers brushed against her core. The thin fabric of her panties slick with her feminine juices. It had been almost two hundred years since she was last touched, and her body buzzed with any sexual attention given to her. A breathy chuckle left the male elf, his forehead replacing his lips in the crook of her neck, as his index finger slipped past the lacy fabric. He couldn’t take too much more of this teasing either, too needy from her moans. The she elves eyes closed, a loud sigh left her lips as his index finger parted her lips and pushed deeply into her core.

“Shh my love,” Legolas moaned into her ear, his length pressing agonizingly against his pants. “We wouldn’t want anyone hearing us.”

She was tight, much tighter than he thought a married woman should be. He pressed his middle finger into her, scissoring the two to keep from hurting her too much as he stretched her walls. Legolas gasped loudly, feeling Shavara’s fingers wrap around his length through his pants. The sneaky girl didn’t waste time detouring down his body, instead she pulled at the bindings keeping his pants closed.

“No more playing.” She moaned, grinding hips against him. “I need you now. I’m ready.”

She didn’t need to say anymore, Legolas leaned more into her body as his right hand fell from her hip. Her eyes opened, locking onto his blue ones as if begging him to speed up. He shuttered at the heated stare, his fingers pulling his stiff member from his pants. His lips returned to Shavara’s as he pushed into her body, effectively quieting down her roar of a moan. She fit him like a heated glove that was not quite large enough, her walls constricting him in a tight embrace as he moved inside her body. Legolas set a painfully slow pace, wanting to keep this moment a live for as long as he could. 

When he pulled away from Shavara’s lips, the two locked eyes quickly forgetting the world beyond the alcove. There was no longer a party thrumming in the background, or a husband she would need to get back to soon, or even a dead love. It was just the two of them, in a safe place where they could express themselves and their feelings of one another. Purrs of enjoyment bubbled from their lips as they neared their limits, much sooner than either had expected. Shavara whined, begging Legolas to move faster and harder into her quaking body. 

Requests he gratified too, his fingers digging deeper into her thighs as his hips pushed her harder against the walls. She would have bruises and a few scrapes, trophies of passion, that she would revel in, in the morning.

Sweat sheathed their flesh as their limbs twisted around each other, drawing their bodies together and a part. Shavara’s lips pulled from her teeth, as her orgasm pulsed around Legolas’s member. A breathy moan of his name leaving her lips pushed him over the edge, his fingers bit into the flesh of her thigh matching the teeth pattern on her shoulder. The cove was filled with light panting, as both of their bodies separated. The red-haired woman sighed blissfully as her back slid down the cool walls. Pure bliss written over her features, as she looked up to Legolas through half lidded eyes. 

“You look beautiful.” He chirped, his fingers straightening his appearance. “We should get you cleaned up, before returning to the party.”

“Will I be staying in my old room?” She questioned, brushing dirt form herself. 

Her light smile faded as the light reminders of her husband rang through the cove. The silver ring that represented their marriage suddenly felt heavy on her finger. What was she going to do? Shavara and her husband cared for each other in many ways, but he never touched her after their wedding night, and even then, it took him getting drunk for him to caress her. Concern flashed over Legolas’s features, as he watched a mild panic consuming her features. 

“Shavara?” He questioned, kneeling before her. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” She smiled once again, “I was just thinking of my wedding night.”

An awkward mask shaped Legolas’s features, as she spoke. It was one thing to spontaneously enact one’s passions, but for it to remind the other of their wedding night was another thing. Shavara chuckled, running her fingers through his hair, which looked silver in the moonlight, drawing his attention back to her. Only a shadow of doubt touching her eyes, as she leaned in, catching his lips with hers once more. Right now, there wasn’t much she could do about the situation, so she’d leave her thoughts for a later time. 

“It’s not what you think,” she sighed, lightly feathering kisses up his neck. “That was the first and last time I was touched with such passion. Now it would be best for both of us to clean up. Lest our absence be noticed.”

“I agree.” Legolas finally confirmed, holding his hand out to help her stand.

“Quite the gentlemen you have turned into.” She chuckled, accepting the help. 

Her legs quacked as she stood, causing Legolas to draw her more into his body. To say that her wedding night was a dreadful mess was an understatement, Feynlaros was so drunk he could barely stand and at the end of it he had thrown up over the side of the bed. Something every woman would take to heart, but Shavara understood why he needed that extreme to consummate the marriage. His wife had died the year Shavara had been born, and it was a well-known fact he loved her with all he was. That was the reason Feynlaros couldn’t love Shavara the way she hungered for.

“Your room is as you left it.” Legolas murmured, feeling Shavara’s distance.

“I appreciate that,” she smiled, as they slowly walked to the chamber.

The trip wasn’t a long one, maybe five minutes through the tunnels, but it was silent as the two contemplated what this meant. Legolas lightly drew circles on her hip when they arrived to the closet of her room, drawing her from her thoughts. The tunnels were meant for emergencies, connecting every room of the castle and leading to different exits. Shavara smiled, pulling from his grasp, and pushing the doors open.

“It would be quicker if we cleaned up here.” Shavara’s voice wavered quietly. “Do you not agree?”

Legolas nodded, watching as she rushed through the closet and towards her bathroom. He was right, everything inside of her room was the same. Her walls painted to look as if one were in a clearing of a forest, and the deep purple sheets covering her bed. It felt like home again, as she breathed the deep scent of wood. A light smile touched Legolas’s features when he followed her from the closet, she was frozen in the room. 

“You were drawing a bath…” he spoke softly, pulling her back to him.

“Yes, will you be wearing the same outfit?” She questioned, turning to look at him.

“I see no harm in it. I doubt anyone will pick up our scent.”

A light chuckle left her lips, before she disappeared into the bathroom. The sound of rushing water echoed through the quiet room, sending a spark of calm inside the wave of chaos. Sexual tension quickly came back to the forefront, at the thought of sharing a bath. Shavara sighed, looking at herself in the mirror, as she slid her dress off. The chiffon that danced down her bare back and around her neck had slight tears in it, from being against the wall. She doubted anyone would notice, but she opted to taking that off for the remainder of the night. Legolas was right, the dress didn’t smell of sex, more of perspiration, which could be explained away. 

“Come in.” she whispered, hearing a knock at the door.

She had been so bold earlier that night, almost demanding that all eyes be on her. Where was that woman now, she wondered turning to greet Legolas? This was different though, her clothes hid her fight training scars, something only Feynlaros saw. She swallowed hard, watching as Legolas lightly touched the marred flesh, feeling the smooth dark marks that luckily didn’t bump over. If she had tanned up a bit, they would be gone now, or at least less visible, but it was unacceptable to dress with so little. A light whimper left her, when Legolas brushed his lips across each mark, mutter about her beauty as he did so. 

“The water’s ready.” She breathed, pulling away from him. “We should hurry.”

His eyes screamed of how much he loved her at this moment, before darkening into a lust filled stare. Let the others wait, he thought as he pulled off his dress clothes. It wasn’t like anyone was looking for them specifically, and they were going to have long hours together in order to catch up anyways. Legolas now fully bare, joined Shavara in the warm liquid, watching as she rubbed her body with soap. His member twitched, once again waking up at the sight of her wet body. She paused, glancing at the very still boy, before a bright smile touched her features. This was a bad idea, he was so distracted. 

The red-heads fingers soaped up again, before starting to rub the bland scent over his chest. Her features were unreadable, aside from the all-knowing smile she adorned. Once Legolas’s eyes cleared from the fog, Shavara handed him the bar of soap, a chaste glance telling him to continue cleaning up whilst she rinsed herself off.

“I am going to the closet to dress, be quick.” Shavara whispered hotly against his ears.

A look that one would call pure sin touched Legolas’s eyes, as he pushed his lips to back to his companions. More moans leaving the red-head, when his fingers pushed inside of her once again. The unsuspecting touch jarred Shavara, as he scissors his digits inside of her core. Her own fingers tangling into his blond hair pulled them closer, before tugging roughly. Her companion wince, taking the demand and pulling away from her.

“That is not being quick.” Her voice teased, as she stood up. “Clean up, and we shall talk about this later.”

“I love you…” Legolas purred, watching as she patted her body dry.

“As I do you.”

She would have said the words back to him, and she probably should have, but the silver of her ring flashed in the torch light. Curses left her soft lips, as she balled the dress in her grasp, and went to the closet. There was still so much to contemplate, and so little time. In childhood, a weekend felt like a lifetime, but as an adult it only felt like a moment in time. She smelled the dress again, making sure it didn’t reek of her sins, before pulling the soft fabric on. A fresh pair of panties soon followed.

“Are you ready?” Legolas asked, when she came into the room.

“Yes,” she stated surely, before whispering “and no.”

“Good, take my arm.”

Shavara did as he asked, her body stiffening up to the proper posture. The two walked through the halls, chatting awkwardly about old times at first, and slowly sinking into the carefree nuances as before. With the carnal pull they had before gone, the memories of a great friendship took precedence again. The sounds of music and chatter slowly got louder as they reached the dance hall. 

“You should pretend you are enjoying yourself, at least.” Shavara whispered, at the door. “I could feel your despair all the way here when we walked in.”

“Then you mustn’t act as if nothing happened between us.” He shot back, a playful smirk touching his lips.

A chastising glance welcomed him, as Shavara thought about how much of a mistake it was to allow passion to cloud her judgement. Legolas patted her fingers, a way of telling her he was merely joking. They opened the large doors nodding at the herald, before continuing to the party. Feynlaros approached the stairs with a bright smile, as the two neared him. Nothing of what happened showed, leaving the certainty that he had no suspicions. Guilt pulsed through Shavara, as her fingers fell back to her side, leaving Legolas with a cool grin. 

“There you are my love.” Feynlaros murmured, taking her into his arms. “Where did your shawl go?”

“Legolas and I went to the guards, and it tore. I went to the room and left it there.”

The truth in many ways, and yet she left out so much in her explanation. Feynlaros nodded, his fingers dropping to her waist, as a Cheshire look touched Legolas’s eyes. That was her chance to tell her husband what happened, and she didn’t.

“I want you to meet an old friend of mine.” Feynlaros murmured, glancing back to the other male. “I’ll relieve you of entertaining her. Thank you for taking such great care of her.” 

“It was my pleasure,” Legolas retorted, causing a firm glance from Shavara.

The males nodded at each other, before Feynlaros’s hand guided her to a dark-haired elf across the floor. All the while Legolas followed them with his eyes. It was Elrond Feynlaros took Shavara to, a man she had only heard of and never met. A bright smile consumed her face, as the small group shared their pleasantries, and most likely their sorrows for the woman’s father’s passing. Legolas smiled, walking to a group of elves while watching Shavara chuckle at something said between the men, her eyes not once looking at the blond. He didn’t worry too much about that though, he would continue attending this party as she would. They couldn’t be together too often, it wasn’t polite to the other guests. 

“She’s grown into such a lovely woman, hasn’t she?” Thranduil breathed, standing beside his son.

“She has indeed.” Legolas slightly growled, taking his eyes from Shavara and resting them on his father. “How well do you know her husband?”

“Feynlaros and I grew up with each other,” Thranduil half smiled, watching as Legolas returned his gaze to the red-head. “Don’t stare too often, you’ll spark rumors. I’ve already caught a few elven children talking about you.”

“I wonder why her father chose such an older man?” Legolas sneered.

“I sent them to Feynlaros,” the older elf, took a drink from a passing tray before sipping it. “After you made it perfectly clear you didn’t want her as a mate, I suggested Feynlaros, he needed at companion that would be able to take care of the more physical aspects of running a Kingdome. Perfect for a truly Wild Elf, and Shavara didn’t have to search for anyone else. From the looks of it all, it was truly a win-win situation.” 

A look of pure astonishment glued itself to Legolas’s features, as the heat of rage coursed through him. His own father sent Shavara away from him and Tauriel, and into the arms of a man old enough to be her father. Feeling the heated stare, Thranduil sent an amused smile to his son, shifting his weight. 

“Do you have something to say?” 

“You sent her away.” Ice chilled Legolas’s voice, contradicting his stare.

“No, you did by fawning over that desperate foot soldier,” Thranduil smiled, as if knowing he won the battle. “You were too blinded by infatuation to see the shinning gem before you. I simply guided her to one who would appreciate her.” An egotistical brow cocked on the king’s head, before he turned to another group. “Now, drop this behavior, and search for someone more available.” 

The elegant older male half smiled to his son, before leaving his presence. Nothing irritated Legolas more than his father demanding something, well maybe one thing, when his father was correct in doing so. His father approached the small group with Shavara and sank into comfortable conversation with them. Her smile found Legolas, forcing a flutter feeling to emanate through his body. She was indeed special, that much he could agree with any male here. 

With that thought, Legolas went off to greet other guests farther away, for now he’d allow some space. The ball ended around two in the morning, leaving only Legolas, Shavara, and Thranduil in the empty room.

“Where did your husband go?’ Thranduil questioned, glancing around the dance floor.

Shavara wiped away a tear, trying to calm her hysterical laughter so that she could answer. “A message came.” She paused, feeling another giggle coming. “I am sure he also went back to bed.” 

“Yes, sleep sounds adequate right about now.” Legolas intruded, secretly eyeing the red-head. “We should all do the same.”

“Agreed.” Thranduil smiled.

The older male was the first to get to his feet, his fingers wiping away the minuscule dirt that may have gotten onto his crème clothing. He eyed the two others, watching as they silently responded to each other. In some ways, he regretted not having her as a daughter by law, but it ended for the best. She saved his friend Feynlaros, and though things were hard on her, she was more than strong enough to deal with it. If Thranduil was an honest man, he would have told his son that it was for the best as well, she would have broken Legolas. The boy was too close to his High Elf ancestors, and couldn’t have handled the ferocity of Shavara’s kin.

“Come child, I’ll have a guard escort you to your room. I must borrow Legolas for a moment.” Thranduil smiled, holding his hand out to her.

“That will be unnecessary, I can make it on my own.” She smiled, pulling herself up with his hand. “Good night my lords.”

Her eyes sparkled under the lights, as she bowed to each royal. In her culture, it wasn’t common place to do such a thing, a royal worked with their people helping to maintain the farms or whatnot. Shavara bent down, picking up her heeled shoes, which she took off sometime during her conversation with Elrond, another declaration that she was not like the other women there. 

“I shall see you in the morning.” She sighed, already halfway out of the room. 

The two men waited till she was out of hearing range, before addressing each other again. Thranduil already high on his guard, the subject of which he was going to bring up shouldn’t be heard by others. His hands fluttered into the air, dismissing every guard around, leaving the two truly alone.

“Yes father?’ Legolas mused quietly. 

“I know what happened between you two.” Thranduil breathed without missing a beat. “I haven’t told Feynlaros, nor would I do so, but I know.” 

“What are you talking about?”

“Shavara and you, in the cove.” It went silent. “You’ve hand your fun, and probably save their marriage, but you mustn’t allow it to fog your senses so. You made it very obvious, and if she had shown any signs of it as well, it would have been talked about around Middle Earth. I’m not saying stop, just be wiser in your decisions. Now, good night.” 

Thranduil left soon afterwards, an amused smile touching his features, as he made his way to his room. Maybe history does repeat itself.


	2. Chapter 2: Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a blind night of passion with Legolas, Shavara is presented with the idea of monthly visits. Meanwhile, Legolas is farther confused by his fathers mixed messages. Should they continue on with their silent affair? Or end things before a good man gets hurt?

Chapter 2: Reflection

Shavara sighed, sitting at her desk as Feynlaros got ready for the day. He often let his wife sleep in, since she took care of the more taxing of jobs when it came to running a kingdom. She was bred for that type of work, being a true woodland elf -wild elf, if you preferred the slur. Those from Mirkwood were considered woodland elves as well, but there was something different in them, they were less feral than those from Shavara’s ilk. During a particularly tough job, one could almost see the blood lust violently dancing in her eyes. Her explanation when asked why she wasn’t like Mirkwood elves, was that they had bred with too many high elves, and had forgotten to trust their instincts. 

“Up already?” Feynlaros breathed when he came out of the bathroom. “What has my Queen awake so early?”

Feynlaros kissed the top of her head, as his fingers lightly stroked the back of her skull. He did this often with his daughter as well, it was his way of soothing their thoughts, so their minds were no longer clouded with negative emotions. Shavara smiled, her fingers lightly stroking the side of his face. This was the end of the affection they showed. 

“It just feels nice to be back with friends.” Her words were soft, as her husband pulled away.

“How about we make this a monthly trip for you?” Feynlaros smiled, sitting beside her with his back facing the vanity. “Thranduil had mentioned that he would love seeing you more often, and do not think I haven’t noticed the change in your temperament. You seem happier here, less strained.”

“Feynlaros,” Shavara sighed, guilt pitting itself in her stomach. “My love, I have so much to do at home, I couldn’t imagine leaving it every month.”

“I’ll assign that to my son, he’s been wanting more responsibility when it comes to the Kingdome.” Feynlaros smiled, pulling her into a hug. “They are going to rule someday, they might as well start learning.” 

“Pardon me saying this, but your son is too soft to handle the work.” 

“Then he’ll train under you, and when we send you back here, that will be a test to see if he is ready.” They exchanged light smiles. “If not, I’ll stop your trips, but if so, you must take care of yourself occasionally. Deal?”

“Fine, I will think on it.” She sighed, glancing to her reflection. “You should get food, I’ll be down there in a little bit.” 

“Take as much time as you need.” He kissed her forehead before leaving the room. 

Legolas,  
Meet me in the library after breakfast.  
-Shavara

A bright smile touched Legolas’s features as he read the neat script belonging to Shavara. Thoughts of the night before flooded his mind as he paced through the halls, a spring in each step he took. He hadn’t realized his feelings for her until that moment, too blinded by his feelings for Tauriel. Feelings that would never be reciprocated, even if she had survived. It may be too late for him to marry the woman he loved, but it wasn’t too late for him to show her how much he cared for her…... and was it really cheating if the man didn’t touch her? For the first time in a long time, Legolas was happy and knew what to do with his life.

“My Lord,” Shavara hummed happily, bowing when she came into the dining hall.

“Hush my child, there is no need to be so formal.” Thranduil smiled, calling for her attention. “Please sit here.”

Shavara smiled brightly as she made her way to her old friend’s father. Naturally Legolas took his father’s right hand side, and Shavara’s dearest husband left a seat open between both he and Thranduil. Feynlaros stood a smile tugging at his lips, as he pulled the wooden chair out. A frown touched Legolas’s features as he watched the loving glances they sent each other, as Feynlaros pushed Shavara’s chair closer to the table. Her smile instantly brightening the room.

“How have you been my friend?” Her voice jingled with giggles,

“Well since yesterday. I have been well,” Thranduil smiled, lightly touching her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “It’s so nice hearing your laugh again.”

“Speaking of which,” Feynlaros interjected, a smile consuming his features. “Shavara and I have decided to have her come for a week every month.”

“Great, it’ll be like before. Wouldn’t that be great Legolas?”

All attention went to Legolas, the smile touching Shavara’s lips never faltering. Legolas still wasn’t sure what it was his father was doing, between hinting at continuing the affair and yet also saying to stop, but even if they stopped, he would enjoy seeing her again. His eyes danced across the room, before resting onto the shy expression of Shavara’s. 

“That would be wonderful,” he murmured quietly.

“Then it’s settled, it’ll be like old times.” Thranduil smiled calling forth the food. 

Shavara glanced at the plate, taking in the celery root hash browns with a Basil Cream incredulously. When she first entered Feynlaros’s home, she found the vegan diet was a cute commodity, but now she truly hungered for something more substantial for the work she took. She breathed a small sigh, before taking her fork and starting to eat. All the while, Thranduil watched her interaction with an amused smile plastered to his features. He glanced up to the kitchen aid, telling her to brink Shavara’s special addition.

“You thought I forgot, didn’t you?” Thranduil hummed quietly.

“I’m sorry?”

Once she asked for clarification, the kitchen aid neatly placed a plate with half a Cornish Game Hen on it. A small smile touched Shavara’s lips, this was a reminder that she was home. She was no longer a reminder of a dead wife, but truly embraced as a family member. She continued eating, ignoring the slight grimace her husband sent towards her. It was hard adjusting to each other’s eating habits, Shavara opting to eating meat in secret to keep Feynlaros happy. 

“Thank you.” She smiled, once breakfast was over. 

“No, thank you for fixing the empty gap we had.” Thranduil whispered, lightly touching her shoulder. “Now, old friend, why don’t we start working on those budget plans.”

“Budget plans?” Shavara questioned, glancing up to her husband.

“Thranduil and I wish to start a building project, to help your fathers kingdom.” Feynlaros breathed, his fingers tucking her hair behind her ear. “What kind of building project?” Her eyes narrowed.

“We wish to build a sturdier city for your people.” Thranduil answered, knowing she’d be less angry with him.

“Our houses are built from living wood.” A dubious stare greeted him. “There is nothing sturdier.”

“Yes, you live in the trees, but maybe it would a good idea to have some stone.” He breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps for the market, maybe the castle in which you’ll live.”

Legolas stood, already knowing where this argument was going. Just because they hadn’t seen each other in years, didn’t mean he didn’t know her temper. Thranduil and Feynlaros glanced at the other male, before going back to Shavara’s less than happy features.

“Where are you going, Legolas?” Thranduil murmured, hoping to divert her attention.

“Shavara and I have plans at the library.” Legolas half smiled, “I was going to get things started, while the three of you debate this construction plan.”

“Thank you,” Shavara murmured, glancing back to her husband. “I’ll look at the plans, first, and then I’ll say yes or no.”

“Good, this shall be quick,” Thranduil smiled, a glint touching his eyes.  
\- -

“We need to talk.” Shavara sighed, once Legolas was in front of her.

“No good morning, just ‘We need to talk’?” He questioned resting his hands on her hips.

Shavara sighed at the too familiar touch. The touch which seemed to set her whole body ablaze with lust. Even though the library was abandoned by others, and the two happened to be in a well-hidden corner, Shavara was worried they would be caught in such a risk quay position. She took a step back, trying desperately to clear her thoughts of last night. That couldn’t happen again, not if she wanted to keep her marriage. It may not be a perfect one, but Feynlaros was a good man, one who happened to care for her. Not love, Feynlaros and Shavara didn’t love each other, they respected and trusted the other to do as they had promised. In more than one way, they completed each other, completing and complimenting the other’s strengths and weaknesses. 

“We cannot do this again.” She sighed, looking to the floor.

Legolas stepped forward each time she went back, a satisfied grin touch his lips when she couldn’t look him in the eye. She still had the habit of looking down, when she was forced to do something she didn’t want to, and right now she didn’t want this to end. He leaned forward, pressing his lips into her ear before speaking. His fingers once again brushing against her body, sending shocks of pleasure through each nerve ending she had.

“You’re very beautiful today.” He purred. 

“You aren’t listening to me.” Shavara sighed, backing into a desk.

“I am,” Legolas smiled, guiding her hips so she was now sitting.

“Legolas please...” Her words drifted off.

“Do you regret last night?” He asked, placing his hands onto the desk, on either side of her hips.

Shavara swallowed hard, as his face came that much closer. Her lips aching to brush against his in a passionate frenzy of kisses, she never thought would have happened until last night. After two hundred fifty years of being married to her husband, she had forgotten any thoughts of silly passion and childish affection, and now here she stood a hundred fifty years later, engaging in those things with another man. Her eyes danced across his features, as she fought to regain her control of the situation. 

“It’s not a matter of regret,” She sighed, feeling his lips dance up the length of her neck and fighting off a moan. “It’s a matter of right or wrong Legolas. I swore myself to one man, and that is not you.”

His lips stopped at the area where her jaw connects with the rest of her skull, gently nibbling the soft tissue there before pulling away. Her words had merit, but it wasn’t enough to detour him just yet. He needed to hear her say the words out loud, or else he couldn’t stop. Legolas gently kissed her pouty lips, before kneeling in front of her, a sly smirk touching his lips as she watched his every move.

“Just tell me that you regret last night,” Her purred, as the tips of his fingers slid up her legs. “Tell me that you don’t love me, as I love you… and I’ll stop right this instant.”

“Th-that’s not fair,” Shavara moaned, finally giving into her body’s reaction. 

Her hips slightly bucking when his fingers skimmed the thin fabric covering her sex, their eyes still locked. Legolas grinned as his fingers grazed her sensitive pelvic, again causing her to buck her hips. Elves born to Shavara’s tribe often didn’t lie, it was considered a coward’s way out of a situation. Which was something Legolas was truly grateful for now. She wouldn’t ever tell him she didn’t love him, because that was simply not true. As children, they would talk about their futures, and she always believed she would be married to him. Her love for him was true, it was as true then as it was now. 

A deep pant left her lips, as Shavara hung her head back exposing her long neck to him. He had her right where he wanted her, which pushed for him to do something he dreamt of all last night. Pulling away from her core, Legolas pushed his fingers farther up her hips, before pulling away the wet fabric keeping him from truly enjoying her. He tossed the thin fabric under the desk like table, before bringing the cloth of the dress over his head. Her arousal sang of his accomplishments, and called for him to farther her pleasure. Legolas pulled a chair closer, as his other hand draped her legs over his shoulders. 

Her legs tightened a bit, before she pulled her body to the very edge of the desk and firmly planted her feet onto the chair. To anyone else, it would look as though she were reading a book wile resting her feet on a chair. Legolas was completely covered by her long dress, maybe the edges of his pants were visible, but they matched her dresses color fairly-well. His fingers playfully grazed Shavara’s sensitive bundle of nerves, before carefully rolling the area between his teeth and pushing his fingers farther into her. He could hear her gasps, as her fingers tightened around the desk’s edge. She tasted as sweet as he’d hoped, and her breathy moans were like music to his ears. They’d need to be quiet, others may be in the library, and they couldn’t risk word getting out. 

With his free hand, Legolas massaged her inner thigh, trying to quiet her down. There was a noise farther down the stacks of books, someone was coming over. Shavara’s sight shuttered a bit, as she bit her bottom lip to keep quiet, now taking reading pose.

“My lady,” Sylsatra, Shavara’s hand maiden smiled. “I am sorry to have missed you this morning… I-if I had known”

Shavara’s fisted the desk, feeling Legolas’s tongue flatten against her warmth and torturously lick up, as her maiden spoke. Though the maiden continued to speak, Shavara’s attention was nowhere near the high elf. She could feel Legolas’s smile, was he plunged his wet muscle into her, nearly forcing a moan out the red-head. What in Hanali Celani’s name was the poor fool saying?

“It’s fine,” Shavara’s words came out with what sounded like a bite of anger. “Why is it that you are here now?”

Sylsatra flinched, feeling as though she had done more wrong. “We’ve received word from you father’s people.” 

A scroll came forth, from Sylsatra’s sleeve. It took a moment, Shavara’s legs tightening against Legolas’s head, to stable her movements so she wouldn’t shake while grabbing the scroll. She’d been waiting on this letter for days, but right now all she could focus on was getting Sylsatra out of the way, so that she could enjoy the devilish tongue of her old friend. 

“Thank you,” Shavara managed, feeling Legolas open her legs a bit more.

“Are you feeling well my lady?”

For the love of Hanali, Shavara groaned inwardly already starting to feel the coils of pleasure tightening up. It wouldn’t take long, both knew that, from the way her body quivered. Legolas slowed the rapid pace that his fingers moved, getting impatient with the hand maiden. If this wasn’t an incriminating scene, he would have told the girl to leave, before returning to his duties, but this was the wife of another man. Shavara forced a tired smile to her features, almost begging Sylsatra to leave.

“I am well, thank you.” It sounded like a dismissal.

“b-but my lady, you are so red. Perhaps I should bring a doctor.”

“No, that would be unnecessary.” Shavara sighed, “I am just readjusting to the surrounds. I’ve been sneezing all morning.”

“Th-then I’ll be on my way.”

Thank the gods, both Shavara and Legolas thought. After a moment, the male continued his ministration, his fingers making sure to graze that one spot that made Shavara’s thighs quake, injunction with his lips sucking on the engorged bundle of nerves. His tongue going counter clockwise on the bundle. Her body shook, as her walls tightened around him. His name leaving her lips like a fervent prayer to the gods. Legolas continued curling his fingers, now at a much slower pace, as she rode her orgasm out, a smile plastered to his features.

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed, as he appeared from under the dress. “I was a fool.”

“You were in love,” her voice cracked with emotion.

He wasn’t sure what the emotion was from, and the question of it tugged at the back of his mind, as he licked away the sweet tasting juice from his fingers. There was a long silence, Shavara had retreated into her letter, reading about the complaints of her people. There weren’t many, the man her father placed temporarily in charge took great care of her people, and would write to ask if he’d done the right thing. Most of those complaints he could fix, but one he couldn’t help being were her people wanting her home. Shavara groaned, seeing that Feynlaros already contacted her people about the build project. Many were insulted, some were curious, and others were unsure of it.

“What’s wrong, my love?” The words came out too naturally.

“Just reading the most recent report.” 

“Well, maybe we talk of a different subject.” Legolas kissed her lightly, enjoying the feel of her lips brushing against his.

“I don’t think I can handle another orgasm like that.” She laughed,

“Then let’s not make it sexual.” A sly grin touching his lips, as he pushed her feet away from the chair. “What have you been up to?”

“Really, you’re asking this now?” Shavara laughed full heartedly, her nose wrinkling a bit. “I help Feynlaros run the Kingdome.”

“And…... what do you do for fun?”

“I draw, spend time at the library, I’ve found a place for calming.” She smiled, resting her chin onto her knees. “I try not to spend much time out and about.”

“You used to be so social.” He breathed, resting his long fingers onto her hips. “What happened?”

“They’re typical High Elves,” her voice heightened sarcastically.

“Didn’t you used to say that about us?” 

“It’s different though, they actually look down on me…. Not Feynlaros, sometimes I think he loves me.” A light smile touched her lips.

“He seems to love you, are the two of you close?”

“He’s a good man,” she hummed quietly. “I’m just a constant reminder that his wife is gone. I feel sorrow for him.”

Legolas leaned in, pushing her knees to the side and pressing her lips to his. It was a sweet kiss, no lust, no heated savagery, just them enjoying each other. Her fingers laced into his hair, drawing him closer to her body, his tongue darting out across her bottom lip. She smiled, pulling lightly at the fringes of his hair pulling away slowly. Her dazzling eyes shimmered in the light, as she stood from the desk.

“I missed the taste of your lips.” He smiled, touching her wrist. “I’ve missed a lot since you’ve left, and I hope to mend everything.”

“There’s nothing to amend. Now, we must dress, supper will be soon.”

“Already?”

“Yes, silly.” She smiled, kissing his lips. “Your mouth was busy for quite a long time, and I should apologize to Sylsatra.”

“Or we can ditch dinner, and go straight to desert.” Legolas smiled, starting to lean in.

“Shavara?” Feynlaros called, from nearby.

Shavara smiled, pushing the prince away, and calling out to her husband. “Yes, my love?”

“Sylsatra, has been worried about you since lunch.” Feynlaros breathed, rounding the corner. “She insists that you are unwell.”

“I am well, she just chose the most frustrating of times to pester me.” Shavara rolled her eyes, handing off the letter to her husband. “Those at the kingdom are unsure about having permanent buildings raise, but I’ll be willing to do so, if I’m a part of the discussions.” 

Feynlaros glanced to the letter, a playful smile touching his lips, before kissing his wife’s temple. “You are a very wise leader, now let’s get you to dinner.” 

-

“Ah, Shavara, how was your day in the library?’ Thranduil asked, when everyone was seated down. 

“Peaceful,” she smiled, glancing to the fair-haired king. “How was political talks?”

“Dreadfully dull, I could have used a fiery red-head to liven things up.” His blue eyes sparkled, glancing at the two mischievously. “Feynlaros tells me the two of you will be leaving in the morning.”

A concerned frown touched Shavara’s features, as she glanced to her dear husband. Feynlaros sighed, sending his friend almost a chastising glance, before putting his fork onto the plate once more. During her library time, there had been an attack on their lands, ushering them to leave this sweet escape earlier than planned. He had wanted to tell her this, when they were in their room, and able to discretely discuss what the next move would be. His unspoken hesitation told her everything she needed to know.

“How many dead?” her voice wavered, locking onto his eyes.

“A dozen or so, our soldiers responded quickly. They reassure me all is well.” He breathed, touching her shoulder. “I just think leaving in the morning would be a great precaution.”

“We should leave now,” Shavara shot back, ready to stand.

“Eat and rest first. If things blow into a conflict, these moments are precious.” Thranduil lightly patted her hand. “In the morning, I’ll send a battalion with you two.”

“Thank you.”

“I can’t let my sweet little girl get harmed.” He smiled, before eating once again.


	3. Repeating Histories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's clear that history repeats, Shavara's learned this through her very long lifetime, but is it possible that history repeats through another generation? Better yet, how similar is she to her mother, and Legolas to his father? Her home life softens as shared responsibility ties her to her son by law, and Legolas finally gets to see the kingdom Shavara grew up in.

Shavara sighed, running a damp hand down the side of her face. Rebuilding the villages at the end of their boarder, quickly became a mounting act. Raiders, and other claiming to be refugees, pushed angrily against their perimeters forcing Feynlaros to station soldiers at each village. Therahel sighed, appearing on Shavara’s left side, his bright eyes dimmed with the need for sleep. They remained silent for a long moment, Therahel waiting patiently for Shavara to finish securing the fencing. Her breath slow, controlled, something he found so very interesting, and too far from his control. Beads of sweat sliding down his hair line, he didn’t know how she did it, heavy labored work with no sweat or loss of breath. Maybe his father was right, her breed was meant for this kind of work.

“How are you feeling?” She questioned, taking in a deep sigh.

“Should I not be the one asking you that?” He chuckled breathlessly. “You have been working hours before the sun was up.”  
“You look a bit red,” she observed, eyeing the fair skinned elf boy. “Go to the shade and drink water.”

“Shavara,” he breathed, tugging at her sleeves. “You have been out here for far longer than I, join me.”

In truth, she needed a break, her muscles shook from long hours of heavy lifting and squatting. Her eyes studied him carefully, assessing if this was going to lead to some unpleasant conversation. Therahel seemed genuine in his offer, she’d evaluated, watching him sit down and pulling two water skins from their resting place. The bright red of her hair danced in the wind, as she followed him to the cooler shadows. 

“You will be going soon.” He hummed, popping a few blueberries into his mouth. “Are you excited for the break?”

“Yes and no, I am still needed here to get work done.” Shavara yawned, feeling her all-nighter catching up to her. “Though, I am confident I will be leaving these projects in the right hands.”

Therahel paused, glancing at his… Shavara wearily. They hardly talked, and when they did, it often ended in arguments, something he took responsibility for. Having a woman a few hundred years younger than you, suddenly become your step-mother wasn’t something he or his sister were ready for. He was sure Shavara hated them both, until this silent praise left her full lips. She didn’t look at him, instead directing her green eyes onto the fence she’d just build, but he was sure she was just avoiding the awe in his eyes. Her kind of Wood Elf rarely give compliments, and having her do so was an honor.

“Thank you, I will do my best.” He smiled, unsure if that was the right way to deal with it.

Shavara chuckled, a small half smile touching her lips. “You have much to learn when it comes to Wood Elves.”

“I am more than happy to learn, only if I have an experienced teacher that is.”

“Father used to say, ‘in normal courts you must forget everything you have learned in life. Courtesies there, are far too different from here.’ I never really understood his meaning until I met Legolas.” She hummed, the other half of her smile touching her lips. “When complimented, by a wood elf, never say thank you. It usually suggests you are not owed the courtesy.”

“Understood.”

~*~*~

Shavara sighed, sitting in the carriage, she hated the small wooden object with a passion. Her calloused hands stung, the slight wounds on her fingers started to ache in the new climate. Reigns would have been hell on her hands, she’d admit that now, though not to anyone who’d tell her husband. The man called back, telling her they were but a few minutes away from the woodland gates of Mirkwood. Her nosed wrinkled at the new name, Mirkwood, it sounded like something that should be avoided. The red head sighed, watching as the once vibrantly green trees, twisted and contorted into grotesque figures. Maybe the name Mirkwood really did fit now. The caravan rode on for another few minutes, before they stopped. With a sigh, Shavara pushed herself out of the carriage, thankfully with the bottom of her dress in hand. Normally she wouldn’t wear dresses, they were too flowy, got in the way, and she thought far too constricting, instead opting out to wearing male’s pants with a shirt. Her smile brightened, find Thranduil waiting in the court yard.

“Shavara dear,” he hummed, taking her into a tight embrace. “How was your trip?”

“Long,” she huffed, rolling her green eyes. “Where is Legolas? Or has he found a new female to preoccupy his time?”

Though it sounded light, like a joke, they both heard the slightest of wavers in her voice. All too naturally, Thranduil redirected where she was facing, and guided her to the throne room. 

“He has met up with a friend, Strider I believe,” The fatherly figure smiled, “I sent word, as soon as you did. The two men should be here any day now. Dare I say, any moment, but for the small time I have you alone, I wish to speak with you on more important matters.”

Shavara’s brows knitted together, wondering what he’d wanted to talk about. His fingers released her shoulders, taking a moment to close the massive throne room doors, before approaching a table. She pitied the servants who dragged the massive stone slab into the room, even lower High elves didn’t have the stamina for such a task, and truly Wooden Elves would have to have at least an hour or so with two or three others. On top of, what she would call, a war table stood a brightly colored map of her home region, giving her the answer she was searching for. He wanted to speak on the construction both he and Feynlaros were working on.

“How is the construction going?” she asked, lightly touching the drawings of the castle.

“Better than expected.” He hummed, joining her side. “But that is not what I wanted to talk about.”

“I am all ears, and awaiting on your topic of choice.”

“I can see that history is already repeating itself.” He responded cryptically, circling the table before stopping across from her.

“How is that, my lord?” she smiled, locking eye with him.

“Your mother was originally promised to me,” his eyes drifted to a faraway place as he spoke. “I loved her with all my being, her spirt wild like the forests around us, her bright wine-colored hair- the hair you inherited.” He paused, dragging his eyes back to the girl before him. “Unlike Legolas, I chose to marry her, I knew how much she meant to me, but it was her father who preferred marrying her off to another of their kind. Relations between Elven kingdoms were not as stable as they are today. Back then, alliances were often broken for the betterment of self, and just like that, your mother was torn from my grasp.” Thranduil sighed, resting his glance to the ground. “Her husband was a kind man, and saw that the three of us could be great friends. He took the first steps of peace, allowing us to spend time together, helping to find a more suitable wife for me, but during this time, Oraya and I were having an affair of our own.” 

Shavara inhaled slowly, were her and mother really so similar? She wondered, watching as Thranduil took a moment to compose himself. The throne room sang of silence, as they both contemplated what to say next. Oraya, Shavara’s mother, hadn’t been there often for her family, opting to be at the frontlines of battle. Shavara was young, too young to remember important details of her mother, when they lost her to a battle with the orc. From the moment she’d passed, Shavara’s father never spoke of Oraya again.

“We stopped when I got married, it tore apart our relationship, watching as the other became happier with their spouse.” He breathed. “That is how it is supposed to be, but we soon stopped talking all together. There are so many things I regret doing, and not doing, before she passed.”

“I-I do not understand how this pertains to me.” Shavara hummed, redirection her glance to the map.

“I saw how you and Legolas were with each other last month,” He smiled, eyeing her reaction.

“We both know, that Legolas is just using me to get over his loss.” She rolled her eyes, hurt bordering her voice, “Once he finds another female, he will give chase, forgetting I was ever more than a friend.” She sighed, glancing to the map. “High Elves are weak and predictable like that.”

“You are fine with that?” Thranduil asked, watching her nod in response. “What is it that you are getting from this arrangement?”

“I want to help him, and he should move on to an available woman.” Shavara forced a smile to her face. “Distraction, -“

Shavara paused, glancing to the throne room door when they opened unexpectedly. Within moments, Legolas’s arms wrapped around her body, with words of excitement for her being back. She smiled, despite how she felt now, her eyes locking with the dark eyed male behind them. He wreaked of human, forcing her to wonder why Legolas was with him, and why he was out in the world exploring. A polite smile touched Shavara’s features, when Legolas finally pulled her from his grip. 

“Shavara, my love…”

Legolas continued talking, tugging Shavara towards the strangers, though she bristled at the slip up. She still remained a married woman, even in these woods. It was the smile that touched his features, that pulled her back into the conversation. 

“Shavara and I have been friends since I could remember.” Legolas sighed happily. “Shavara, this is Ar-Strider.”

“It’s an honor finally meeting you Shavara.” Strider hummed, taking her hand into his before kissing it. “He’s told me all about you.”

“I pray it is all good.” Shavara smiled weakly, her mind dancing around the things she’d rather kept unsaid. “I know nothing of you, I fear. How long have you both been galivanting around?”

“Just after you left.” Legolas paused, glancing back to his father. “I hope you don’t mind our taking her.”

“Have fun.” Thranduil sighed, already heading for the doors.

“My lord,” Shavara started, only to be silenced by the king.

“We will continue this conversation another time.”

Though she wasn’t particularly excited about that conversation on the side burners, Shavara wasn’t sure if she wanted to be alone with these men after her discovery. Legolas chatted about the adventures to two men had faced, during her absence, all the while dragging her through the halls of the Kingdome. Where on earth were they going? She wondered. 

~*~*~

“Legolas,” Shavara hummed, nuzzling her face into his chest. 

“Hm?” he sighed, kissing her hairline.

“Never mind,” she sighed, not wanting to bring the conversation she had with his father up.

“No, what is the matter?” he asked, trailing the tips of his fingers down her shoulders. “You can tell me.”

“How was your day?” 

“Good, my best girl is in my arms,” he breathed, his fingers dipping under the sheets, and touching your lower back. “Though, she isn’t telling me what is wrong… Even though there is something obviously bothering her. What did my father say?”

“What makes you think, your father is behind this?”

Legolas smiled, before lightly kissing Shavara’s awaiting lips. He gently pushed her onto her back, as they lost themselves into the heated kiss. Her body reacted instantly, fingers digging into his scalp, drawing their naked bodies together. Puffy moans leaving her, as his hand danced across her hip bone knowing the turn on spot well. He loved her innocence mewls, and the way her nails dragged down his back leaving red ribbons behind.

“Please tell me what has been bothering you all day.” He pouted, pulling away. “Or else.”

“We were talking about the past.” She purred, feeling his lips dancing down her body.

He was distracting her the closer her got to her throbbing entrance, and yet he expected her to continue. Pausing, his eyes fluttering from the flesh of her stomach, to her eyes, waiting on the rest of her thought.

“Hon, I cannot concentrate with your actions.” She half moaned, arching her back.

“Fine, I am waiting.” He smiled, cheekily. “Hurry though, I am a bit impatient.”

“Your father and my mother were lovers.” Shavara sighed, threading her fingers into his hair. 

“What?”

“Apparently, the only reason my mother did not marry your father, was because my grandfather was not as open minded as our parents.” She chuckled, feeling the awkwardness in his body. “They too had a bit of an affair, up until your father got married.”

“We –“

“No, you came before I did, and by that time our parents were talking anymore.” Her shoulders shook with amusement. “Do you really think I would allow tonight to happen, if I found out we were related?”

“Of course not,” he smiled, lower his kisses again, meeting her hip bone.

Just as his lips met her opening, a knock resounded in the room. They froze, both turning to look at her door, before Legolas rolled off of the bed. Shavara threw on her robe, calling out, say she’d just a moment. Her eyes closed, hoping that whomever was at the door wouldn’t notice the smell of their fluids on her.

“S-strider,” she huffed in shocked, opening the door. “H-How can I help you?”

“I’m so sorry about disrupting your evening.” He sighed, taking a step back, and redirecting his eyes. “Would you happen to know where Legolas is?”

“I believe he wanted to go to the library.” Shavara sighed, wrapping the robe closer to her body. “Let me put on more suitable clothes on, and I will escort you there.” 

“Thank you.”

With the door closed again, Shavara rushed to her closet, where she distinctly remembered seeing Legolas rush to. She smiled, seeing his slim body putting on his clothes sloppily, before he took notice to her. His smile brightened at the predatorial glint in her eyes, before kissing her passionately.

“You should go now, to through the tunnels, go left and stay straight till you can smell books.”

He nodded, before disappearing into the hidden tunnels. Shavara sighed, as she pulled on a light summer dress, before returning to Strider. During the day, he mostly listened to Legolas talk, about Shavara, or he’d join in adding some details when the conversation went to their adventures. Though he didn’t say enough, for Shavara to start any true conversation now. She wouldn’t describe him as secretive, more private, always careful to not let too much information come out about him. 

“This way,” she smiled, rounding the corner, keeping her strides short. 

“You and Legolas are obviously very close.” Strider hummed, slowly following. “How did you meet?”

“We were childhood friends, both our parents interacted often... How did the two of you meet?”

“We met through a mutual friend.”

“I see, that is reassuring to be sure.” Shavara sighed, her fingers resting on her breast. “Let me clarify, it is not that I mistrust humans, Legolas is just easily swayed. I had hoped he did not just trust someone he met randomly so easily.”

“Especially at during these times.” Strider sighed.

“So true, Orc’s have been pushing against both my kingdoms borders.” Shavara responded, a great deal of stress evident in her voice.

“You have two kingdoms?”

“Not really, my husband is going to leave his kingdom to his children when he passes. Then I will go back to mine, this way, they won’t feel as if I am greedy.”

“You are married?”

Shavara chortled loudly, glancing back to the man she was speaking to. “Did Legolas not mention that?”

“No, why is your husbands not here?”

“He likes the idea of me spending time with old friends.” Guilt bubbled up again, drawing her eyes back to the dark halls. “Here we are,” she hummed pushing the library doors open. “I am unsure of the subject he is looking into, but he is here.”

“Thank you, I do appreciate your company.” 

~*~*~

Time passed too quickly, Legolas and Strider left mid-week, mentioning some sort of honor quest, leaving Shavara with Thranduil. He never picked up where they left off, something Shavara was eternally grateful for, but he did pester her about finalizing their design. Wood Elves with stone buildings, she snorted crawling back into the carriage, the prospect seemed laughable, but she approved of construction never the lest. At least this way, if anything were to happen, her people would have a sturdy escape area. While they debated logistics, Shavara sketched out a plan, using Living Wood as the canopy over the cobble stone market. That way her people were just as at home, as outsiders were. For lights, being that her forest was as dark as night, they would use crystal orbs, powered by her ancestral magic. 

“We will see you next month, yes?” Thranduil smiled, leaning into her carriage.

“Of course, my lord.” 

“Good, I will send word to your people.” He breathed cheerfully. “I will also tell Feynlaros, that you will spend a month with us. This way you get to see how construction is holding up!”

“I cannot neglect my duties for that long.” She cried, tossing loose tendrils of hair over her shoulder.

“Nonsense, Feynlaros says Therahel is doing a splendid job.” He tilted his head. “Do you not trust your son?”

“I trust Therahel, he works hard and sticks to schedule.” She hummed, considering her hands. “I would enjoy seeing my home again. Fine, I will see you in a months’ time.”  
~*~*~

“How was Mirkwood?” Feynlaros asked, greeting his wife in the outskirts of town.

“Peaceful,” Shavara hummed, kissing his cheek gently. “How is our kingdom? Have there been any attacks?”

“None, I would have called for you if there had been. Therahel is doing a great job, I have not seen him since you left.”

“I would say so,” she smiled, glancing around the town. “He’s ahead of schedule.”

She paused, hearing the slight hitch in her husband’s throat, he wasn’t telling her something. He lost his cool demeanor the moment her eyes met his again, and intensive heat radiating from her stare. If he couldn’t tell her everything, both this marriage and Kingdome wouldn’t make it. As much as she cared for Feynlaros, he didn’t have what it took to be a general or any type of warrior, and if something happened during her absence, she needed to know.

“It is nothing you are thinking about.” He finally sighed out, knowing he’s lost. “My son has found a quicker way of dealing with all the destruction.”

“How is that?”

“He separated building crews in half, so instead of having two cities being fixed up, its four.”

“And if there is an attack?” she hummed, “We have extra guards watching over each crew. Has he split those in half as well?”

“He did not understand why you had extra guards, why would raiders attack a city being rebuild?” her husband sighed, seeing that his son was going to learn a few very important lessons.

Lesson one, don’t mess with a pre-set system without talking to the person who made it… and secondly, never second guess a Wood Elf.

“Where are the extra guards then?”

“Protecting the castle.” 

She hummed, taking the reins into her fist, and headed to where her son by law would be. Feynlaros shook his head, before heading back to his home. Shavara would join him later, his son in tow. He didn’t believe either correct, he had no idea why she did half the things she did, he just knew that she knew what she was doing. His son would soon find that out, hopefully sooner rather than later.

“Shavara, you are home,” Therahel murmured, seeing the red-head trotting up. “How was the trip.”

“Relaxing, I see you have made a few edits to my schedule.”

“I figured that things would move much faster, with four building crews.

Despite her cool demeanor, Therahel could sense the hurricane of emotions dancing through her voice. He thought she’d be proud of his decision making, what exactly up set her so? His brow drew, calling her attention, and nearly softening her hardened features. This was the first time he oversaw anything, and it wasn’t fair of her to approach this mistake so abrasively. 

“What is it that I did wrong?” he asked, watching her drop from her horse.

“You did great, the idea of having four medium crews is brilliant.” She stated, glancing at the workers. “What is upsetting, is you added a large group to four cities, without thinking about their safety.” 

“There are guards already at each city, I am not following.”

Shavara licked her bottom lip, thinking on a way to clear things up. “Slaves are valuable commodity.” She began slowly, eyeing him to make sure he was following. “Logically who makes the best kind of slaves?”

“Captured people.” he hummed, questioningly.

“Yes, not warriors, but builders.” She purred, leaning into him. “They are used to following orders, they have a skill already, and do not have to be trained. Now, armed with that knowledge, if a raider sees four different cities being rebuilt, with minimal guards what do you think they will do?”

“Attack all four, and watch as the guards fumble around.” She nodded, proud that Therahel understood so perfectly her message. “I should have seen that answer a mile away. Apologies for my short-sighted ness.” 

“None are needed, you are learning remarkably quickly.” She smiled “Now, call forth the guards, so that our builders are protected. I will see you tonight at dinner.” 

“You will?”

“Yes, your father tells me you haven’t been coming home.” She snorted, “It is great that you are taking such care in your duties, but some relaxation is important during times like these.” 

“Wise words.” He smiled.

“You would be surprised what you can learn from an older, wiser, son by law.” She smirked, loading onto her hoarse and riding back home. 

In the time, it took for him to get a bit more work done, and arrive to the dining room table, Therahel seemed have lost any form of affection towards him mother by law. The children ate in silence, as Feynlaros and Shavara spoke about how they could strengthen their defenses, so that there was less to do when she left again. 

“Why come back if you are going home?” Adaya hummed. 

“Adaya,” Feynlaros warned, sending his daughter a disciplining stare.

“By all means, let your daughter speak her mind.” Shavara hummed, staring at the light-haired woman. “You are correct, what would be the point of my coming back? Feynlaros has both you and his son, so he needs no other heir,” her brows drew, as she leaned into her chair. “Your brother is learning how to handle the more physical parts of the job, so there again is no need for me, but there is that silly matter of marriage.” She glanced to her husband. “This leaves him with two, maybe three, options kill me, or deal.”

“Shavara,” Feynlaros sighed, tapping her fingers lightly.

“and the third?” his daughter perked up.

“We live in separation, though, that could end our peace treaty.” 

“If you are half the woman you claim to be, that would not be the case.” Adaya growled, pushing herself to her feet. “I have lost my appetite.”

Shavara rolled her eyes, knowing that Adaya would visit the kitchens before heading to her bedroom. There was no used in the girl putting on the farce, so Shavara conceded to the argument, in her own way.

“I am tired from my travels,” she hummed, standing up as well. “On my way, I will be sure to tell the kitchen to expect you soon.” 

Aday’s cheeks flared at the knowledge her mother by law had, Shavara smiled, before walking from the room. It was late when Feynlaros entered their shared quarters. His eyes downcast, a symptom of being a leader of a kingdom. His wife sighed, pealing their sheets back to welcome him into their bed. Shavara’s normally sterile mask sank into one of longing and understanding. In times like this, Feynlaros needed affection, something she’d learned to deal with periodically. He tossed his robes to a chair in the far corner of the room, before sinking into her arms.

“What is wrong my breath?” she asked, threading her fingers into his hair, kissing his scalp as she talked.

“Why do you call me your breath?” he asked, a tired sigh leaving his lungs.

Shavara smiled, remember asking her mother the same thing many years ago. 

“I live for your happiness,” she replied slowly. “You, are the breath that keeps me alive… It is something mothers say to children and wives to their husbands.”

“A term of endearment,” he chuckled, pulling her so she was lying next to him. “I was not aware Wood Elves had such terms.”

“As I said, only mothers and children.” She chortled loudly, when his fingers brushed against her sides.

“And wives to husbands…”

His smile brightened the room, drawing a giddy yet seriousness from Shavara. Her eyes scanned her husband’s face, as if seeing it for the first time. His platinum blond hair tossed carelessly around the bed and his face, the face she’d grown used to waking up to. Feynlaros was older than when she’d last observed him this closely, faint wrinkles kissing the edges of his eyes and mouth, taking slight attention away from the icy stare. Shavara dragged her finger tips down his strong jaw, and traced the pulse in his neck. If he were of her people, he’d have some sort of a tattoo on his face, perhaps an upside-down trident hanging from his forehead to chin, fitting his power and superiority over others around. 

“What is the matter?” she urged, feeling old ties coming back.

There was a time when she’d fallen for her husband, giving him her everything instead of her strength… Time will do that. When he’d noticed the slight touches and words, hinting of her attraction, Feynlaros came out honestly with her. Telling his young bride that she’d never receive such attentions from him, before deeply apologizing for marrying her before this knowledge. It was from then on, they acted more like partners than husband and wife, and if Shavara were to be completely honest, his honesty made her fall even deeper in love with him. 

“I apologize for my children’s behavior.” He sighed, as his smiling face dropped. “While you were gone, I saw how much you help with this kingdom… How much I ask of you… how little I give in return.” His eyes closed with disappointment. “I could not even grant you my unconditional love.”

She laughed, drawing a look of confusion from her husband. “I have always known of my roll, I am content with it.”

“That is not my point.”

“And yet, it tis the very foundation of why we work so well with each other.” She snorted back, drawing his face ever closer to hers. “If you ever have doubts about my happiness, remember this, I can leave at any time. My kingdom is no more than a two-week travel, and my people hunger for my return.” Shavara rested her forehead against his. “You have become my rock, I fear for the day that I am alone again. Take comfort in that, for I am not as wild as I once was.”

Feynlaros smiled, both seeing and hearing the emotion in her voice. He swallowed hard, before leaning into her, gently placing a kiss on the corner of her lips.

“You are too good a woman for me.” He sighed, laying on his back with his eyes closed.

“I am not as good as you think I am.” She whispered, rolling to her side.

~*~*~

It felt right wearing her armor again, the cool green-leather hugging her curves as if a part of her flesh. Thranduil was used to seeing her in such garb, being that he’d visited her home village many times, but this would be a first for Legolas. Shavara was always presented as the perfect princess, any high elf would be lucky to have, but this was the skin she was most comfortable in. The thigh high boots creaked as she stepped from the carriage, the long leather gessans dancing with every movement of her legs. Below the waist tight leather, Shavara war tight brown shorts, to keep from any unfortunate exposer, as well as for comfort. 

Thranduil smiled, seeing Shavara in what was once her mother’s armor, his arms out as if begging for a hug. She obliged, leaning into him, her long red hair, pulled back into a ponytail. Legolas watched in awe as she and his father talked about how they’d get to her village. Dressed like this, Legolas felt intimidated by the woman he’d grown up with. She looked as if she truly could handle herself in battle, and he suddenly understood why she would get upset over being the damsel in destress. Shavara, by no means was a damsel in destress, and he was abruptly well aware of that fact. 

“Legolas…”

He paused, seeing that both people were string at him, and vaguely hearing his name through his mass of thoughts. With a bright smile, Shavara lightly placed her hand onto his shoulder, the movement stiff from the thick leather of her vambrace. 

“Legolas, did you hear us?” she hummed with amusement. 

“Some of it yes.”

“Being that carriages are larger than wagons, we have decided the best rout, would be horseback.” Her ruby lips tugged into a bright smile. “We are going to go the back ways, do not stray from the group, and be guarded at all times. My forest is dangerous.” 

After a week of traveling across the plains, they finally approached a vast forest. The tree trunks twisting in the darkness, their leaves blacking out the sun, leaving Legolas to wonder how anything grew. Shavara sighed, patting her Friesian horses shoulder blade a large smile touching her features. This was home, the thick primordial air beckoned her home, screaming for attention while threatening to kill intruders. Legolas glanced around, feeling as though they were being watched.

“Shavara,” he warned quietly.

“Those are my guards,” she hummed, glancing back. “They are here to kill those who mean us harm.”

“Why do they not greet you?”

Shavara snorted, “Better off unseen. Now, do not dawdle we have another five hours of travel.”

Legolas didn’t doubt her words on how dangerous this forest was, Wild Elves being known to stay in areas where magic remained untamed and volatile, but there was something drawing about the area. The trees trunks twisted and hunched over, allowing silver beams of light the leak through the large heart shaped leaves. Magic both made things terrifying and beautiful at the same time. Thranduil talked quietly to the red-haired woman, his posture being careful to not seem demanding. 

“We are near the guardians, are we not?” 

“Guardians?”

Shavara hummed, a joyous sound with hints of laughter in it, her eyes dancing to his father. Though he couldn’t exactly decipher the message, Legolas saw the silent conversation between the two. 

“Shavara always talked about them,” Thranduil breathed quietly, lowering his voice. “They were made of wood and moss, beings who only spoke to the leaders of the land, and killing those who men harm.”

“Oh, yes, the living wood guardians.” Legolas hummed, remembering the stories she’d tell them at night. “I thought they were only legends. Wooden statues with faces, no man created.”

“Please do not let them hear you say that,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “And by all means, do not call them Ent’s, they hate their brethren, with a heated passion.”

Not a moment later, they arrived at a great archway where two large trees stood. Faces of elderly men carved into the wood, faced the outside world, giving the sense, they truly were searching for any threats towards what lay behind them. Legolas cocked his head, taking in the mossy covering of the wood, he was taken aback when the giant eyes shifted to look him up and down. 

“Shavara,” one breathed, creating a rush of air in the narrow pass. “It is good to see you again.”

“The sentiment is returned Ironash, Oakscar.” She smiled brightly. “I’ve brought Thranduil and Legolas, of Mirkwood, to assess the renovations to our market place.”

“No explanation needed.” Oakscar, a younger set tree hummed happily. “We are here to serve you.”

“Though, barely anything is Living Wood,” Ironash hummed, narrowing his eyes at the High-Born Elves. “Have we made you unhappy?”

“Not at all,” Shavara gasped, slight pangs of guilt pulsing through her. “Only the market place will be stone, we’ve decided that it would make those who come to trade more comfortable.” She justified.

“Ah, outsiders.” Ironash grunted. “This makes our job harder, but we’ll do our best.”

“That is all we ask, is there nothing I can do for you and your kin?” she offered, cocking her head.

“Visit more, moral has been low.”

Shavara nodded, feeling the same sentiment, she missed her home and her people. Ikrioss, her horse, shifted slightly as his darkened mane danced in the giant’s breath. Ironash hummed a slight dismissal, allowing the three to pass through their arching roots and branches. Bellow lay as small clearing with smooth stone floors, and just beyond, buildings inside the trucks of larger trees. Legolas had never seen anything like it before, inside one tree seemed to be at least thirty homes carved into the trunk, with the lower levels holding shops in each root. Small orbs dangled from each branch, creaking small lights that flickered whenever a body walked by. Tanned elves rushing around to keep busy.

“Welcome to my home Legolas.” Shavara hummed, eyeing his awe with amusement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of this chapter will be continued in Chapter 4. Thank you for reading!


End file.
